


Limited Time Only! THE RUINATION OF ALL THINGS!!! Tickets On Sale Now.

by SORD



Category: Gintama
Genre: Clowns, F/M, Suicide, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SORD/pseuds/SORD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where the fuck did that clown come from?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limited Time Only! THE RUINATION OF ALL THINGS!!! Tickets On Sale Now.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBlueSheep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueSheep/gifts).



"Where the fuck did that clown come from?"

Mutsu pauses in the middle of untying her hair. They’ve just come back onto the ship and her hat’s made her scalp all sweaty. She follows Sakamoto’s gaze and sees … a clown. Hence the question.

"Are ya joking?"  _Please let him ignore the pun_ , she silently prays.

He shakes his head slowly. 

That’s her fearless leader, already pale and greasy from nausea. He’s forgotten their transport mission. “We’re going to Earth. Edo, where your friends live? Remember?” He doesn’t respond. “We’re bringing the circus to town. How do ya  _forget_  this stuff?”

He doesn’t look away from the clown. “I don’t like this.”

"If you’re drunk again I swear I’m going to kick ya in the - "

“ _I don’t like this._  Get it off my bridge.” He’s still staring. “ _Now_.”  

There’s a bad look on his face, mouth tight, eyes narrow behind dark glasses. It’s the look he gets right before he breaks something or shoots someone. His dangerous look. She’s known Sakamoto Tatsuma a long time, long enough to know that look means “don’t argue, just  _do_.”

"… all right. Hey, you - "

But the clown is gone.  _Good riddance_ , Mutsu thinks,  _clowns are creepy. No idea why Earth folk like ‘em so much._

~*~

Sakamoto has been in a fine mood ever since they got back on board, storming around and shouting at everyone. Nobody can do anything right when he gets like this. Not that he’s out of line,  _per se_ , because all of his complaints are valid, but it’s nit-picky and obnoxious and he isn’t  _nice_ about things. 

He’s captain, though, and they can love it or leave it, and they all love it, nit-picking obnoxious moods included. 

"Mutsu, there’s mold in the HVAC system leading to the third deck."

She blinks at him. “How the fuck did ya find that out? Were ya in the airshaft? How’d ya even fit?” It’s an absurd image.

"Mutsu." He isn’t smiling. "There is fucking  _mold_ in our fucking  _ventilation system_.” 

"I heard ya." She hates the whining note in her voice, but Tatsuma can always bring out her petulant inner preteen.

"Do you understand? Mold in the ventilation equals mold spores in our lungs, equals getting sick. Getting sick means we’re docked for months while the crew recuperates. No crew means no jobs and  _that_ means we're fucked. I don’t feel like getting fucked by mold, Mutsu. If I’m gonna get fucked, I prefer Earth girls.”

She grimaces.

"Don’t you make a face at me. Mold means two things. Humidity calibration is broken, and that fucking sucks, but I hope to hell it’s that because otherwise we’ve got a liquid leak somewhere and there’s a decent chance it’s septic system. And if it’s septic - "

”- we’ve got problems. I know.” How many things had gone wrong to end up with mold? There are systems upon systems to prevent this. An alarm if humidity goes above a certain percent, a series of failsafe shutoffs if there’s liquid in the HVAC, a damn  _siren_  if the septic system is compromised, and weekly visual inspections on top of everything else. This reflects poorly on the entire crew. It’s embarrassing and  _dangerous_ and on top of everything they have passengers. If the passengers get sick, there goes their reputation. “I’ll take care of it.”

For the first time in a week he starts to soften, almost smiles at her, and she can’t help but preen because his smile is sun breaking through clouds, the only sun her fragile skin can handle, but it vanishes before it can take hold.

"Where the fuck did that clown come from?"

Where the fuck  _did_  that clown come from? But before she can tell it to get out it’s already disappeared down one of the many winding hallways that worm through their ship. 

~*~

Two weeks into their voyage and the crew is already glassy-eyed and stir-crazy. A fight broke out in the mess hall - no punches thrown, but even raised voices are cause for alarm. There may have been shoving. Nobody will tell her. Everyone’s restless and irritated except for Tatsuma, who has transcended irritation to become a constant vibrating ball of tight-wound anger. He spends a lot of time in his quarters. He’s got a punching bag in there. Mutsu has the feeling it’s been getting a decent workout.

The crew keeps scraping and scrubbing and bleaching and burning and eventually irradiating mold, and it keeps coming back. It’s unfamiliar, probably something from some backwater star, and weirdly pretty. Infected corridors are dappled in bright primary colors with glaring neon phosphorescent accents. Tatsuma has sealed off these corridors and cut local life-support in an attempt to stop the spread. 

Apparently, funhouse-color glow-in-the-dark space mold doesn’t need oxygen. Or gravity. Or any atmosphere at all.

They’re all fucked. Tatsuma may like getting fucked by Earth girls but Mutsu (in her limited experience) doesn’t like getting fucked  _at all._  She’s getting angry and isn’t afraid to show it.

She’s getting scared, too, and she  _is_ afraid to show it. Mutsu is the poison tongued negotiator, the hardass, the bad cop. She’s not supposed to get scared, but now she’s fucking  _terrified_  and she’s doing her best to keep it together. 

Tatsuma is beyond rage and fear, all grim serious business. No more scarf and sunglasses, no more laughing, no more drinking. He’s quarantined their ship and sent the rest of the fleet far away, off to Andromeda. Overkill, maybe, but he wanted to make sure that they were too far to try any kind of idiotic rescue mission. In their private conferences, he’s told her he thinks there might have a week left before the flagship becomes an enormous tomb. He’s killed the engines and cut forward velocity and directed the ship in a path that will hopefully avoid any eventual collision with inhabited planets. Mutsu suggested they aim at the Yato homeworld, because it’d probably save his pals on earth a whole lot of grief, and he laughed for the first time in forever, it seems like. He seems reluctant to aim at a nearby star. Apparently the idea of a floating tomb is more attractive than vaporization. _  
_

He (reasonably) blames the plague on their passengers. He is furious with their passengers. He hates their passengers. He’s cut off life-support and opened the airlocks and sent their passengers to their suffocating or freezing or imploding deaths. He cut the air supply slowly, made it hurt, and he doesn’t care, because they brought this death sentence with them. That’s the only explanation.

There’s one night when the two of them break open the really  _really_  nice bottles of liquor, because honestly, what are they saving them for at this point? The future? Most of the crew is already dead, drowned in their own bodies as their lungs fill with fluid. Rough way to go. Ugly. Nothing we can do, the medics died early. Nothing but offhandedly mention that maybe four or five of these pain pills would be more than enough for an overdose. Here, have twenty. Take ‘em as needed.

Anyway they’re drinking nice liquor, really  _really_ nice liquor, and nice sake too, because Tatsuma is a little homesick. “Mutsu,” he says, and then finishes his cup, “Mutsu, I think we should kiss.”

"Yeah?" She’s not really opposed to it. She’s been drinking brandy and her brain is warm, and she’s been leaning against Tatsuma and her whole body is warm. "Ya think?"

"Yeah, I think. I think we should kiss." When he speaks he’s trying really hard to be serious but he’s fighting a smile which is so nice, what a nice smile. She loves, shut up, she likes his smile a lot. Shut up. She  _likes_. Not loves. Likes a lot. Loves. His dumb face is all smiling and she can’t deal with loving it so she just kisses him. Stupid man, can’t even stop smiling when a beautiful girl is kissing him. She does her best to kiss that smile away and fails miserably. It’s a very wonderful, delicious failure. 

She decides that maybe she doesn’t like being fucked, but she sure likes fucking. Maybe she just likes fucking Tatsuma. His eyelids flutter and his mouth hangs open a little when she grinds against him, and he sighs breathy moans when she bites his earlobe, and he makes a face like he’s looking at God when she licks her way up his inner thigh. She takes her time and tries all the things she’s read about and unravels him and sees the honest face behind all the laughter and anger and hurt. She sees him and he sees her and when she finally lowers herself onto him they both last about thirty seconds. Pathetic. She licks sweat off his collarbone and he pretends to eat her hair and she gently headbutts him in the face. He gets a mouthful of hair and apparently inhales some because he starts coughing. 

She pulls away.

He’s still coughing.

And coughing.

No.

When he stops, he smiles at her. What a nice smile. She hates his smile a lot. Her face is wet with sweat and tears and she feels a tickle deep in her throat, like maybe a cold’s coming on. 

Four or five of those pain pills on the bedstand would be enough to overdose, so be careful. There are at least forty in the bottle. 

They look at each other for a long time and are very quiet. Then they go to sleep for a very, very long time. 

Right before he drifts off, Tatsuma asks her something. She can’t quite hear it. She’s floating somewhere, feeling good and nice and quiet. 

"… come from?"

"Mmm?"

"Where?"

"Dunno. You did it. Wanted to go to Earth."

He’s waking up a little, fighting sleep. “No, Mutsu, I didn’t. I didn’t set it up. Where’d it come from?”

"You didn’t?" She’s so tired, she feels so good and so  _tired_ , she likes having him near her in the bed, she likes being naked together. “No, ‘cus I didn’t. Gotta be you.”

"But I didn’t - " but he’s falling asleep."But if you didn’t -" and his breath is wheezy and slowing and his pupils are blown wide "then where the fuck -"

She slips into the dark before he finishes.

 ~*~

"Where the fuck did that clown come from?"

Mutsu pauses in the middle of untying he hair. They’ve just come back onto the ship and her hat’s made her scalp all sweaty. She follows Sakamoto’s gaze and sees … nothing.

"Are ya joking?"  _Please let him ignore the pun_ , she silently prays.

He shakes his head slowly. 

That’s her fearless leader, already pale and greasy from nausea. He’s forgotten their flight plan. “We’re going to Earth. Edo, where your friends live? Remember?” He doesn’t respond. “Shore leave. How do ya  _forget_  this stuff?”

He doesn’t look at her. “I - it was there, I just saw it -“

"If you’re drunk again I swear I’m going to kick ya in the - "

"I swear," he’s still staring. " _Honestly,_  I -“ 

There’s a bad look on his face, mouth loose, eyes wide behind dark glasses. It’s the look he gets right before he shuts down. His breakdown look. She’s known Sakamoto Tatsuma a long time, long enough to know that look means “ _Help me_.”

"… all right. Hey, you, let’s go." He’s distressingly pliable as she guides him down the halls. By the time they get to his quarters he’s near-catatonic, but she knows his passcode by heart. Inside, she yanks off his boots (a new affectation and a fucking  _process_ , why does he wear these things, she blames that Odd-Jobs man) and puts him to bed.

She picks up her hat and is at the door when he rasps out “Stay.” It’s a request, not a command. She wouldn’t, if it were a command, but she has to, because it’s not. With humans, everything is annoyingly complicated and backwards. Mutsu kicks off her boots (easy, because they’re decent boots and not cheap showoff shiny bullshit boots like  _some_ people wear) and pushes his shoulder. “Scoot over, idiot, you’re taking up the whole bed.” He doesn’t oblige, so she has to shove him. He’s on his right side and she lies down on top of the blankets so they’re back-to-back. Yato don’t get cold easily, and getting under the covers seems inappropriate right now. Maybe sometime in the future she’ll be comfortable between Tatsuma’s sheets, but not right now.  _Baby steps, Mutsu_ , she tells herself. 

Tatsuma rolls over and for a split second she worries that he’ll put his arms around her, but he just presses his forehead between her shoulder blades. She reaches back awkwardly and strokes his hair. He might be shaking, or laughing, or crying, or maybe just dreaming. His hair is coarser than it looks but it feels interesting. Maybe all human hair is like this, or maybe it’s unique to Tatsuma. She hopes it’s the latter. She likes to think that he’s different from all those weird noisy people down on Earth. Not that he isn’t weird or noisy.

 _Weird and noisy_ , she muses.  _Woisy, hah hah. Woozy. Snoozy. Sneezy. Mold? Something about mold and colds and coughing,_  but before she can finish her thought she’s asleep, sleeping hard, dreaming dreams she won’t remember about a circus and a clown and bright-spangled, colorful, deadly hallways. Tatsuma sleeps just as hard and neither of them wake up when he starts sleep talking:

_"Where the fuck did that clown come from?"_

When they wake up they’ve landed on Earth and after certain events transpire at a certain hostess club, Mutsu is forced to throw him and that stupid Odd-Jobs man into the ocean. Business as usual. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be prompt response on Tumblr. I have no sense of scale and it got kind of larger than that, so I guess I'm posting it. I've never written SakaMutsu and I'm not sure how I feel about it but this was a good way to explore positive feelings about the ship. Anyway hope you enjoyed the pestilence, sex, and suicide! a fun time for all ages


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